Dean Winchester's Many Attempts at Adventure
by lunar mischief
Summary: Who said being a demon was easy?
1. Self Exorcisms Suck

**WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 9. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.**

**My faithful beta MoonClaimed and I were discussing what life would be like for Dean after...you know. She wrote something pretty awesome (check it out on her page), which inspired me to write this.**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

"Sam!"

Dean stood helplessly watching his brother from the confines of his trap. The Winchesters had caught wind of a nasty demon close to the bunker. The usual trap they set backfired this when Dean accidentally walked into the Devil's Trap. Sam made a move in his brother's direction, but before he had a chance to break the seal, the demon was upon him, choking the life out of him.

Dean's mind raced. He couldn't stab the sonovabitch, couldn't shoot it. Cas was God knows where, so he wouldn't be any help. Only one option, then.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus," Dean frowned; there was a tingling in his body. "Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii." A grunt of pain. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!"

Smoke rushed through the room, and the demon holding Sam down collapsed. Sam took a few deep breaths before turning to his brother.

"Dean!" The human scrambled to his brother's side, but the demon was unmoving. "Come on, Dean, wake up!" Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Shit."

Sam jumped when Dean's cell went off. He dug it out of his brother's pocket. "Cas, good timing-"

"Sam?" The named hunter could hear Cas' head tilt. "Where's Dean?"

"He's, um…" Sam let out a chuckle. "I think he exorcised himself."

* * *

"So…has this type of thing happened before?" Cas stared down at Dean's body, which was lying on his bed back in the bunker.

"Probably not. I mean, why would a demon try to exorcise another demon?"

"Have you tried the reverse exorcism? You had some success with that in the past."

"It won't work on him. Anti-possession tattoo."

Cas let out a sad laugh. "I suppose he doesn't need that any more. I could-"

The door to Dean's room slammed open.

"You would not believe the day I've had."

Castiel and Sam gaped at the figure before them.

"What?"

"…Dean?" Sam asked, a smile creeping up on his lips.

"Shaddup. It was the best I could do."

"The best you could do is a six year old in a pink dress? And," Sam had to catch his breath. "And pigtails?"

"Ha ha, it's all very funny. Now could you please just poof away my tat?"

"I don't know, Dean," Sam said with a teasing grin. "I kind of like you like this. Very fitting. What do you think, Cas?"

"You do make a very cute girl, Dean," Cas said solemnly.

"I may be a tiny girl – I mean, inside a – possessing a-"

"That sounds wrong no matter how you say it, dude."

"Look," Dean growled, "the point is, I'm still a demon. And I will burn your asses if you don't put me back right this minute."

"I apologize, Dean, I did not mean to offend you. I will remove your mark. But before I do..." Cas whipped out a phone and snapped a picture.

Dean stood perfectly still for a moment of stunned silence. "I will end you."

"Can you send me that?" Sam demanded as he looked over Cas' shoulder at the frankly adorable photo.

"I will end you both."

Cas walked over to Dean's body and placed his hand over his heart. A slight glow was seen through the shirt. "It is done."

"It's about time." Dean's spirit rushed out of the girl's body and into his own in a billow of smoke.

While Dean got settled into his own skin, Cas grabbed Sam's shoulder and whispered, "we don't want to be here when he wakes up," and they both disappeared. By the time Dean opened his own eyes, they were both long gone.

"Yeah, that's right, you'd better run!"


	2. Classy Badass Lady

**Thanks so much for the encouragement! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**I own nothing.**

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"Dean, just because you're a demon now doesn't mean you get to decide what to do!" Sam shouted.

"Oh, is that what this is about? Me being a demon?" Dean growled.

"I'm just saying that ever since you turned you've been more-"

"Ever since I 'turned?' You think I asked for this?"

"God, Dean, no-"

"You think I get kicks out of torturing innocent people? About having to worry about accidently setting things on fire because I can't control my powers yet? Well let me tell you something, I don't. "

"I know you don't," Sam said agitatedly. "But you're a demon now, Dean, and it's – where are you going?"

"Out!" the demon yelled has he grabbed his coat and keys off the hook.

"Dean!"

Ignoring his brother's call, Dean stormed out of the motel, stopping short once he got to the Impala. "Son of a bitch."

It was half an hour later when Sam finally calmed down. He glanced up from his book at the sound of thunder. Another bout of lightning flashed through the window. Sam glanced at his watch. Dean had been gone for a while, and while Sam normally wouldn't worry, the roads had to be getting pretty bad with the storm outside. Deciding if he didn't hear the rumble of the Impala in five minutes he'd shoot out a text, Sam turned back to his book.

It was a paragraph and a half later that realization dawned on Sam. He had never heard the Impala _start_. He shot up like a rocket and bolted out the door. In front of him was the Impala, and huddled against the driver's door was his brother.

Sam rushed over to his brother. "Shit, Dean, I am so, _so_ sorry. I completely forgot we demon-proofed the car after Abaddon's goons ransacked the trunk."

" 's alright."

"Let me just get the door for you and then you can go for that drive," Sam soothes, reaching down to grab his brother's shoulder.

Dean shook his head. "I'll ruin her seats, my clothes the way they are."

"Okay, inside then. Can you stand?"

Dean gave his brother a 'Really? I'm-a-knight-of-hell-of-course-I-can-freaking-stand" look and began to rise. And went back down.

"Legs go numb?"

"Shaddup."

Sam grinned at the expected retort for a moment before biting his lip with worry. "You know we could remove the seals, right?"

"And let any demon have their way with my baby? I don't think so."

"'Have their' – okay, someone's spent too much time in the rain. Let's get you back inside." Sam huffed, pulling his brother up, throwing one of his arms over his shoulder, beginning to walk back to the motel room.

"She's a classy lady, Sam," Dean explained solemnly. "Classy ladies don't hang around with demons. Bad influences."

"Uh huh."

"But she could fight 'em off. I taught her well."

Sam hummed as he dropped Dean on his bed. The demon lied down, not even bothering to take off his soaking clothes before he dropped into asleep.

"Classy badass lady."


	3. A Salt with a Deadly Weapon

**Thanks again to the fantastical MoonClaimed for fixing up my messy chapter.**

**I own nothing.**

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"I hate snow! Can't see a god damn thing…" Dean muttered as he navigated the Impala through white streets.

"Motel should be coming up on the right."

"Do you see it?"

Sam squinted to try and make out the passing buildings through the flurrying snow. "No, I don't – there! Hundred feet or so."

Dean cautiously maneuvered the Impala into the parking lot.

"Is this even a spot?" Sam asked once they had stopped, peering out of his window.

"It is now. C'mon, grab your stuff." Dean stepped out of the car and made it two steps before slipping on the ice and falling flat on his face. He let out a high-pitched yelp and then cursed, "Son of a motherfucking bitch!"

"Hey, you okay, man?" Sam called.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the older hunter grumbled. "Freaking rock salt."

* * *

The next day the Winchesters had spread out in a local diner to review what they'd found so far.

"But get this: Marissa's father bought the car a month ago." Sam handed his notes over to his brother across the table.

"Right when the deaths started back up again," Dean said, finishing his brother's thought.

"Exactly. Freddie's haunting the car."

"Okay, so it's just a basic salt and burn. No problem" Dean commented as he added some salt to his burger.

"Except he was cremated."

Dean stopped mid-bite to face the gravelly voice. "Come again?"

"The article says he was cremated. There's no body to burn, Dean," Cas said.

"Okay, so we just have to find the item he's haunting and-"

"Dean," Sam said gently, "it's the car."

"We don't know that!"

"I'm afraid your brother's right. It seems the only logical choice."

"No. No way. I am not burning a '69 GT!" Dean growled.

"Dean-"

"No, Sam! Look at her! She's got original parts and everything!"

"I know, I get that," Sam said, "but we don't-"

"And what'll Baby think of me? She'll never trust me again!"

"It's a car, Dean!" Sam sighed and turned to face their resident angel. "Cas, help me out."

"I am sorry, Dean," Cas said solemnly, "but we do not have a choice. If we don't burn it, more people will die."

"But…" The demon sighed. "Fine, you can burn the damn car." He took a bite of his burger to console himself—it didn't work. "Shit, salt, son of a bitch that hurts!"

"Seriously? Again, Dean? That's the third time this week!" Sam exclaimed.

* * *

It had been a long day and tomorrow would likely be even longer. Dean shuddered at the memory of the classic car burning. What a waste. "You salt the doors, Sam?" he asked after collapsing back onto his bed.

"Yes, _Dad_. I'm not a kid, you know. I know the drill."

"Excuse me for wanting to keep you safe, man. You know what's out there."

"I know, but are you sure this is a good idea?" Sam asked, concerned. "What if something happens? You're stuck in here."

"Quit being such a girl," Dean grunted, rolling over onto his side. "Nothing's gonna happen."

No sooner had the sentence left Dean's mouth, then a flaming pancake landed on his bed. Dean jumped up and glared at Cas. "What the hell, man?"

"My apologies, the pan and I had a bit of a disagreement."

"Um, guys?" Sam pointed to the burning comforter. "We should probably put that out."

* * *

"Ready to get out of here?" Sam asked as he climbed into the car and handed his brother a cup of coffee.

"Hell yeah. And remember," Dean said, raising his cup to his lips, "no more Michigan. Ever." He took a sip and immediately spit it out of his window with a cry of pain. "Dude, what the hell?! You put salt in my coffee?"

Sam laughed. "You should have seen your face!"

Dean glared at his brother. "I'll remember this."

"Brink it on, bro. This time, I'm going to win."

"Pff," Dean said with a taunting grin. "That's what you said the last three prank wars."


End file.
